Abide with Me (12 page)

“Damn straight,” Basil said firmly.

“Then that means your feelings for Raymond are only sexual?”

“I didn’t say that, but I see what you gettin’ at. My thing with Raymond is that if I’m going to have these desires about men, then I want it to be with him or somebody like him. I mean, I still have to keep my shit tight. Even though I’m not playing ball, I can’t be out there just sleeping around with every mofo that looks my way. I mean dudes talk about who they sleep with much more than the honeys, and they lie.”

“So you’re not clear on what you expect from a relationship with Raymond?”

“I’m clear I want to make that mofo pay for ignoring my letter. When I found out he was up for that judgeship, I figure now would be the time to bust his ass. But knowing his honest-Abe ass—that mofo has already told them he was into dudes.”

“You’ve never considered that Raymond didn’t know how to help you?”

“Then he should have said that! Look, I don’t want to talk about Raymond. Let’s talk about something else.”

“What do you want to talk about?” the doctor asked as he scribbled in his notebook that Basil kept changing the subject whenever something bothered him.

“I went out to breakfast with Campbell. We had a nice time, but the conversation was kinda strange.”

“How so?”

“I don’t think she’s interested in me sexually. I think she’s just looking for a friend.”

“What makes you say that?”

“First of all, she showed me these pictures of this white dude she
been going out with. I mean, they live together, got a kid, and have a couple of dogs and she seems pretty happy. And I was right about her being mixed, but she didn’t say which one of her parents is white,” Basil said. He didn’t tell the doctor how he had thought about bedding Campbell when she showed up in tight jeans and a yellow sweater that highlighted her breasts and skin tone.

“Does that disappoint you?”

“Not really. Getting close with some honey right now is the last thing I need. I lost my heart not that long ago, and I’m not going down that road again.”

“Not even with Raymond?”

“I was talking about Campbell,” Basil said firmly.

“So are you going to see her again?”

“Yeah, ’cause I really like talking to her,” Basil smiled.

The doctor asked Basil what he was smiling about. At first, Basil started not to answer because it reminded him of the times women and men had asked him what he was thinking about when he became silent. It drove him crazy. But Basil answered the doctor anyway.

“I was thinking if I continue to feel so comfortable talking with Campbell, then I won’t need you. I mean I could just schedule a lunch or a dinner with her once a week and talk to her,” Basil laughed.

“Why do you feel comfortable talking with her?”

“I don’t know, maybe because she makes me think about things I’ve tried not to think about.”

“Like what?”

“She asked me about what kinda ladies I dated.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I dated all kinds of women. Started to tell her my jimmie didn’t discriminate,” Basil laughed.

“Do you think she’s interested in dating you?”

“Naw, ’cause she went back to that mother shit. Asked me if I’d
known my mother, would it make a difference in the type of women I dated.”

“What did you say?”

“I said maybe. I told her there were things I think I missed by not having a mother.”

“Were there things you missed?”

“Yeah, sorta. When I was a little boy and I would see other children with their mothers at school or at a football or baseball game, I knew I was missing a big part of my life. All I had was my aunt and whoever my father was bonin’ trying to take the place of my mother. I mean, maybe if I had a close day-to-day relationship with a mother, then maybe I would have more respect for women.” For a moment, Basil’s mind wandered back to the Little League playing fields in Jacksonville, Florida, where he had first excelled in sports. But now he only saw the faces of the mothers of all his friends and heard his father’s voice shouting, “That’s my boy.”

“Didn’t your father teach you to respect women?” the doctor asked.

Basil didn’t answer immediately. He was thinking about when he was a little boy, and his father would sometimes use his lady friends as live-in baby-sitters for him, while he played cards and chased other women with his buddies. When he couldn’t recall any of the ladies’ names or their faces, he finally broke his silence.

“My father taught me to be a man and to try and do what’s right.”

“And don’t you think treating women with respect is the right thing?”

“You have to earn respect,” Basil said defiantly with a disapproving stare.

“So you think they think we punks,” Trent teased.

“That was an educated crowd, they figured it out,” Raymond said.

“Madam chairwoman sure did have a nice house,” Trent said. “I really loved the way she had the buffet set up.”

“It
was
nice, wasn’t it?” Raymond agreed.

“And the food was off the hook.”

“Yeah, sister laid it out,” Raymond said, speaking of the elaborate buffet of cold tiger shrimp, pastas, chicken, salads, and roast beef.

“Didn’t you think it was funny that most of the wait staff was white or Asian?” Trent asked.

“I guess like they say, we’ve come a long way, baby.”

The two were sitting at the kitchen table late Saturday evening. They had just returned from a dinner given in Raymond’s honor by the local NAACP chapter. Lisa had warned Raymond they would be checking him out, even though many of the members already knew him from his work in the community.

“What did you think of Charles Pope?” Raymond asked. He was another one of the lawyers being considered for the bench. He was a partner with one of the larger firms in Seattle making big bank. A native of Washington, Charles had graduated from the University of Washington and Yale Law School. He had also clerked for Supreme Court Justice Marshall. Rumor was he was a big womanizer and had far too many skeletons in his closet, including a child out of wedlock with his law clerk. He seemed particularly interested in Raymond and Trent’s relationship, but something prevented him from asking them point-blank if they were more than roommates.

“He seemed like a nice guy. But his wife didn’t match,” Trent said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she seemed so shy, almost matronly, but she was certainly gulping down those vodka gimlets. There is an awful lot of pain going on there,” Trent said about the woman who had sat next to him at dinner.

“I didn’t talk to her that long,” Raymond said.

“Yeah, that’s why I think they knew what the deal was. You know with the seating arrangements. They sat me next to Mrs. Pope and you next to the hostess’s husband. Something right out of B. Smith’s book on entertaining,” Trent said.

“Yeah, I did notice that,” Raymond said.

“Charles asked where we met,” Trent said.

“Did you tell him?”

“Yeah, you know he’s a frat.”

“I didn’t know that. I’ve never seen him at any meetings.”

“He ain’t true. He pledged in the grad chapter in one of those walk-right-up-and-sign-in things.”

“I guess that explains why I didn’t know he was a brother.”

The last two weeks had been busy for Raymond. Not only was his calendar filled with sudden social obligations like dinners and drinks, but he was also spending a great deal of time with Lisa preparing for
his hearing. When he wasn’t in meetings with Lisa, Raymond was boning up on recent court rulings and scheduling appointments with members of Washington’s congressional staff members. All of this time spent shoring up support for his nomination was causing a little concern around his office. Their small size made a billing lawyer a valuable commodity. Feeling the subtle concern, Raymond had decided to resign. The partners wouldn’t hear of that, but felt maybe a leave of absence might be better. Besides, they knew it would be an honor for them to have a former partner on the bench, one who felt supported by his firm. They never knew when a lawyer from the firm might end up trying a case before Judge Raymond Tyler, Jr.

There wasn’t a major concern about Raymond neglecting his clients or his workload. Most of his clients on retainer weren’t experiencing any major legal problems. But now every time a new case was presented at staff meetings, Raymond had to decline it because of his impending hearing. Because the firm wasn’t large enough to have a partner doing very limited billing, Raymond understood perfectly that a leave of absence was in order.

“So you sure you can take care of me in the lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to?” Raymond asked Trent. He really didn’t need Trent to support him. He had a nice savings account, and his investments were paying off. It just felt nice knowing that if he needed help, Trent had his back.

“Of course, but you’ve got to turn over all your credit cards and develop a taste for fried baloney and egg sandwiches,” he teased. “What do you want to drink?”

“I know I shouldn’t, but let me have a little wine. I don’t have to get up early in the morning,” Raymond said.

“What did your father say about you taking the leave?”

“He thought it was a good plan. Said I need to use all my energy getting ready for those fools in D.C.”

“You’re not going to have a problem,” Trent said as he handed Raymond a glass of white wine.

“Cheers,” Raymond said as he tapped his wineglass against Trent’s beer bottle and smiled.

“I had a nice time and I was real proud of you,” Trent said.

“Thanks for going. It felt good having you near. I know how much you hate those type of things,” Raymond said. Usually Trent only accompanied Raymond to the annual office Christmas party and sporting events. When Raymond needed an escort, he would invite his paralegal, Sara. Recently Sara had met her future husband while escorting Raymond to a client dinner party.

“I don’t hate them. And you know I’ll do anything you need,” Trent smiled.

“I know and I appreciate you,” Raymond said as he sipped some of the cold wine.

About an hour later Raymond was listening to Maxwell’s mellow voice, blending with Trent’s soulful snore, when the phone rang. It was late and Raymond figured it was his father asking about the dinner. He had talked with his father more in the last two months than in the entire previous year. And now when they spoke it wasn’t about Kirby’s football career.

“Hello,” Raymond whispered. He didn’t want to wake Trent. There was no response. Just silence. “Hello,” he whispered again. Suddenly Raymond heard a deep, male voice. “Watch out, my brother. They’re out to get you.” The voice was both frightening and familiar.

And then Raymond heard a dial tone.

Raymond didn’t tell Trent about either of his phone calls. Not the call he received from Basil, who, Trent knew, had rocked Raymond’s world at one point. And Raymond was feeling some guilt because the
sound of Basil’s voice made him sweat in places it shouldn’t. Raymond didn’t mention the strange late-night warning call because he didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted it to go away. Besides, Raymond had convinced himself he was dreaming.

But it didn’t take him long to discover which was the more ominous. A couple of days later Raymond got a call from Lisa Lanier.

“Looks like we’ve got a problem,” she said.

“What type of problem?” Raymond asked.

“The NAACP is going to oppose your nomination,” Lisa said calmly.

Raymond felt a sudden chill and then a cold sweat.

“Are you serious?” Raymond asked. He couldn’t believe that the organization he had been a member of since he was nine was against him. His birthday gift. Not the organization where his father, mother, and brother were also lifetime members. This couldn’t be, he thought.

“Yeah, but we’re going to find out what’s going on,” Lisa assured him. “And besides it’s just the local chapter. It’s not like it’s the national office opposing you. This happens all the time.”

“Did they say why?”

“No, I think it’s because they want Attorney Pope since he is a local boy.”

“Are you sure?” Raymond asked. What he really wanted to know was could the NAACP be opposing him because he’s gay?